


Other People's Business

by Serralinda



Series: Tokyo Yaoiverse [9]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, Junjou Romantica
Genre: Lemon, M/M, Slice of Life, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serralinda/pseuds/Serralinda
Summary: Takaba's on the hunt, Asami's got a plan. Are Usagi and Misaki in the crosshairs?





	1. Snooping

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the Tokyo Yaoiverse, where I make my favorite men get all lovey-dovey with each other. I humbly recommend reading the first chapter/introduction of my first story, Tyrant Moves to Tokyo for an overview of my plans for the series. And, since each story is complete when I upload them, bookmarking the series rather than a specific story would work better if you want notice when I put up a new one. Just a suggestion.
> 
> Okay, this is Finder-centric, but I'm focusing on normal daily life in this, rather than an action/thriller sort of thing. It may seem a bit out of character, but they can't always be dodging bullets and getting kidnapped. And after the last few chapters of the manga, I think they've earned a little quiet time.
> 
> Lemon in chapter 4. And again, this is Finder, so I went a little kinky/raunchy. Comments and reviews welcome.
> 
> All rights belong to the mangaka -
> 
> Finder series - Yamane Ayano  
> Junjou Romantica - Nakamura Shungiku

**Snooping**

Takaba Akihito was loitering outside a certain high-rise apartment tower. His camera was tucked away in his backpack – he wasn't planning on taking any pictures. He wasn't really sure why he'd come here, only that he felt compelled to know more about those people he had seen at the sumo tournament.

 _Ah! There he is! So he does live with him – or at least in the same building._ The shaggy-haired young man, Usami Akihiko's companion-maybe-lover, left the front entrance and walked off down the street. Following along at a discreet distance, Takaba wondered where he was headed. Most people out this early were going to work, but the guy was dressed too casually for a typical office worker. _Maybe he's still in school? He looks young enough..._ They headed down into a subway station.

Luckily, Takaba kept his card charged full at all times – a reporter has to be prepared – so he had no trouble keeping the guy in sight. Except for all the other people squashed into the car making it a little more challenging. Someone groped his ass at one point, but he couldn't figure out which stone-faced person it might have been to punch, so he glared at everyone.

They emerged out onto the streets again, and the guy walked a little faster now, with more purpose. _We must be getting close,_ Takaba thought. _There's no school in this area that I'm aware of, so it must be a job or....shopping?_ He turned a corner and Takaba hesitated before following – this side street had much less foot-traffic and he didn't want to be noticed. He decided to chance it but from the opposite side of the street.

The building on the corner was a large one, some kind of offices. His target slowed to a stop by what must be the employee entrance and spoke to a man standing there smoking a cigarette. “Morning, Boss. I thought you were trying to quit.” _I think that guy was at the tournament also._

“Good morning, Takahashi. I am trying. I'm down to three a day – before work, lunch, and right after work. I don't think it's for the nicotine now, just an excuse to stand around doing nothing for a few minutes.” He smiled.

Takahashi rolled his eyes as he headed inside. Takaba walked past and kept going for another block before turning around and coming back. Around the corner to the front entrance, he went closer to read the gold lettering on the doors. Marukawa Shoten.

The publishing house. _Was Takahashi just making a delivery for Usami? No, he called the other man “Boss,” so he works here_. Well, now he had a name and a business – time to hit the internet. 

* * *

Several hours later, Takaba had a numb butt, a stomach sloshing with coffee, and a whole slew of information – some of it hopefully useful. He stood up and stretched, rubbed his behind, and kicked the cheap, uncomfortable chair this internet cafe was stocked with. He had to pee again and was tired of staring at a screen.

After using the restroom, he left the cafe with no particular destination in mind, just wanting to walk and think. But he stopped short. Parked just outside was a familiar black limousine, with a familiar tall man in a dark suit standing beside the back door. He briefly considered making a run for it. But that would just force Glasses* to send men after him and they'd attract too much attention. _Well, even more than this already has._

Pouting, Takaba gave up and got in the car.

“Akihito, I thought you weren't going to sell that picture,” Asami said.

“Don't you have a million shady businesses to run? And why are you still having me followed? Isn't everything running smoothly right now?”

Asami didn't justify that with a response.

“Argh! I'm not going to sell the picture! I was just...curious. Or something. I don't really know why, but I want to know more about those people.”

Asami sighed. “I was worried you'd get into trouble investigating that human trafficker I told you about. But now you're snooping into innocent citizens' lives? Did you at least learn enough to satisfy your curiosity?”

“The Parliament guy is out of town with his family, so I have nothing to do on that story at the moment. All I learned is the kid is named Takahashi Misaki and works for Marukawa as an editor. He works on Japun – the magazine that publishes _The*Kan._ That's my favorite manga, about the chef who...”

“Akihito! You are such a brat sometimes. That 'kid' has to be nearly the same age as you.”

“Isn't that what you like about me?” Takaba grinned and Asami struggled not to smile. “Anyway, I'm bored! So, I'm just going to snoo-investigate some more to kill time. I don't...The penthouse...” _feels unsafe without you there,_ he left unsaid. Though it had been completely repaired and redecorated after that invasion by the assassins, Takaba couldn't forget the sound of boots thumping through the rooms, guns firing from every direction, men crying out as they fell. Only Asami's presence silenced those demons in their home.

Asami draped one arm over Takaba's shoulders and hugged him to his side. “We're going to have lunch, and then I'm going to keep you occupied for the rest of the day. My shady businesses are all running just fine.”

“Really?” Takaba couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. _Shit, I'm pathetic!_ He turned his head upward and was rewarded with a soft, comforting kiss.

“Really. So behave. For now anyway.”

The limo slowed and parked. Takaba followed Glasses and Asami into the very posh, very quiet Italian restaurant, and then into a private dining room in the back. Setting down a small gym bag, the secretary left them alone to stand guard outside.

They ate a leisurely meal, Takaba filling Asami in with what he'd learned about Marukawa, Takahashi (not much), Usami-sensei (again, not much). Asami just listened, knowing that was Takaba's way of organizing his thoughts. “Have you read any of Usami's books, Asami?”

“I've read a few. The man writes beautifully, his stories are moving and clever. I'd say he deserves his reputation. You should try reading something besides manga once in a while.”

Takaba huffed. “I can't sit still that long! The family company is enormous and sprawling, they invest in all kinds of different ventures. Legitimate though, as far as I can tell. Takahashi had no internet presence at all, beyond a social media page he barely uses. I wonder if they met through the publishing company.”

“How do you plan to find out? I'm assuming you already have some kind of ridiculous scheme in mind. Some adorable cosplay?”

“...! It's not ridiculous and no cosplay! I'm just going to go in and try to get hired as a photographer. A publishing company must need photographers, for publicity shots or events or magazines.”

Asami looked thoughtful. “That could work.” He started taking off his shirt.

“What...what are you doing?”

“Changing my clothes. Today, _I'm_ going to cosplay.” Rising to his feet, he stripped down to his boxer briefs – black, of course – then walked over to the gym bag and bent over. “See anything that you like?”

Takaba rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his fists, drinking in the view. _Damn, the man was sin incarnate!_ “Maybe. Why don't you pose a little? Do a twirl?”

Asami smirked. “Maybe later, just for you.” He slipped into a pair of worn jeans, a T-shirt, a zippered hoodie, and even a baseball cap and sunglasses. Now he was dressed similarly to Takaba. There was still no hiding the fact that he was a gorgeous specimen of man-flesh, but in that outfit he might go unnoticed at first glance. “Ready to go?”

Takaba hopped up and slung his backpack onto a shoulder. “What about...?” he gestured at the discarded clothes.

“Kirishima will take care of it. Now, follow me – we're leaving out the back.”

 _Going without Glasses? This is getting interesting!_ ”Right behind you!” he said, giving that perfect ass a sharp slap.

_*Glasses_ – real name Kirishima Kei, he's Asami's right-hand man, a sort of secretary/chauffeur/bodyguard. Since there's already a Kirishima, I'm going to stick mostly with the nickname Takaba uses.


	2. Taking the Scenic Route

**Taking the Scenic Route**

Behind the restaurant, Asami led them to a parking lot and stopped beside a very ordinary, rather beat-up sedan. Pulling out some keys, he chirped the locks open and said, “Your chariot, Takaba-sama,” and got into the driver's seat. Takaba looked disgusted but climbed in beside him. _He's getting spoiled - so cute!_ Asami thought. _I wish I could keep him tucked away somewhere safe._

“Are you sure this thing will even start?”

“It's in much better shape than it looks. And no one will pay any attention to it.” He started the car, which hummed like a happy hooker. “See? Now put on your seat-belt, we have a ways to go.”

Takaba fiddled with the (high-end) stereo until he settled on some irritating J-pop station, then leaned back to watch out the window as the city flashed by. “Where are we going?”

“First, a little sight-seeing. Then I want your opinion on a business.” _I hope this works since I can't cage him without spoiling his spirit. Akihito, you're trouble._ He glanced over at that precious face in profile. _But very worth it._

“Why would you want my opinion on a business? Is it an arcade?” he grinned. Asami was tempted to stop right there and kiss that grin into submission. Instead, he just ignored the question.

Maybe twenty minutes later, they entered a part of the city Takaba was unfamiliar with. “Are we still in Tokyo? What are these big estates doing in the city?”

“Strange, isn't it? This is where the filthy rich live, Akihito, those who can afford it and want to pretend they are country daimyo*. Some of these families may have been at one time. I almost bought one, many years ago.” He slowed the car as they passed a very long, very tall wrought-iron fence, spiked on top. He was searching for a gap in the trees... _Ahh, there._ He pulled over and parked.

“Can you see the house?”

“That's not a house. It's a goddamn palace!”

Asami chuckled. “Let's get out and gawk for a minute. I want to smoke.” Leaning back against the car with his Dunhill*, he watched with amusement as Takaba pressed his face between the bars then pulled out his ever-present camera to look through the zoom lens.

“How many people live in it? An entire clan? It's enormous!”

“Three people at the moment, plus some servants. Imagine living in that cold and empty mansion, decorated with precious things that no one appreciates. That's where Usami-sensei grew up, with a father never home, a half-brother from a dead mistress, and a bitter bitch of a mother also mostly absent. Perhaps that's why he immerses himself in imaginary worlds.”

Takaba spun around and stared at him.

“You're right, the family is powerful, and I keep tabs on who's powerful in Japan. He's not much younger than me and I thought we might eventually meet in business circles. But Usami-sensei escaped as soon as he could, settled into his hermit-like existence in that penthouse of his.” Asami paused to grind his cigarette out beneath his foot.

“I stopped paying attention to him, once it was clear he wasn't involved in the business. The family has nearly disowned him – or he rejects them. Same difference in the end. The father is ruthless but strictly legal. The brother is strait-laced and obedient, though lately he's shown a little creativity. The mother lives mostly in England. Sensei popped back onto my radar when the patriarch died a few years ago, but then he turned down an enormous inheritance and went back to writing.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Takaba asked. “I've never heard you talk so much.”

“Usami had wealth and power and good-looks and intelligence. He's very much like me in some ways. But even after he walked away from his family, I don't think he was happy – his books from that time were melancholy and haunted. His latest books are hopeful, even cheerful at times. And I suspect it's young Takahashi's presence that changed him. I could see it in his manner at the tournament. So be careful, Akihito. You could easily upset their balance.”

“You admire him,” said Takaba quietly. “You've read more of his books than you let on. And you believe that guy is his lover.”

“I respect him for going his own way. I envy him a little. And I empathize with him - you crashed into my life and made such a mess of it, just as that kid probably did to Usami-sensei. You're my vulnerability, Akihito, when I never had one before. If any trouble followed you into their lives, I would act on your behalf – only you. Not them.” _Please understand, Akihito, why I'm so protective of you._

Takaba flew over and wrapped his arms around Asami's waist. “I was jealous of them. At the tournament. They seemed different from each other yet still so...connected, and sometimes I feel very distant from you. I wanted to see if I could figure out how they do it, make it work between them.”

“They just love each other. And to hell with anyone who would get in their way. They've built their own little world. So don't get in their way, or drag me into it either. Okay, brat?” That was as far as he could go, with words.

Takaba nodded against his chest, hugged him just a little tighter. Then he stood back and smiled. “I've had enough sight-seeing. Let's go buy a game company!”

“Don't boss me around, little boy! Get your cute ass in the car.”

* _Daimyo_ – powerful feudal lords during the Shogunate period.

*Asami only smokes Dunhills, of course.


	3. Viewfinder

**Viewfinder**

Takaba sat quietly as they drove back into the bustling city, mulling over Asami's words. _We can make it work because we love each other. That's what he was telling me, right?_ He stole a glance sideways and hid a smile. _He looks both ridiculous and adorable in that outfit, but still Asami. How can one man be all three?_ He sighed. _Doesn't matter, I just love him, like an idiot._

“Are we there yet?” he asked, just to be annoying.

Asami snorted. “Don't make me turn this car around! Ha! Traffic is always bad here, but it won't be too much longer.”

They were crawling through the Shibuya, where giant television screens and billboards and neon signs all screamed for attention, advertising anything and everything the young and fashionable shopper could dream of. They passed through it heading north.

Finally, Asami turned down a side street, much quieter, and went a few blocks before finding an alleyway and then parking in a tiny spot behind a building of some kind.

Getting out, Takaba almost tripped over a scooter crammed into the corner. “Whoa! Wait a minute! Is this my Vespa?”

“It is, I had it brought here for you. Now we have to walk a little.”

They made their way out to the street, turned left, turned left again. _We're heading to the front of whatever store we parked behind,_ Takaba thought.

“Down that way a few blocks is the Meiji Shrine and Yoyogi Park if that helps you get oriented.” Asami gestured. “It's a good neighborhood.”

Takaba listened, wondering why Asami was telling him any of this. He knew Yoyogi Park – he'd hung out there with the other delinquents and rebellious teens when he was a teen. Asami crossed the street, so he followed. _We're not going to the shop?_

Halting, Asami took him by the shoulders and faced him toward the street. There, directly across from them, stood the storefront. It was a modest, two-story building, with a glass front looking into some kind of reception area. And in bold lettering across the glass - “ **Viewfinder**.” But it looked closed, with no people and no lights turned on.

“What...?” Asami handed him a set of keys.

“Go look inside. I'll be in that cafe there.” He turned and walked away.

Takaba was torn between wanting to question Asami and curiosity about the store. The store won, and he dashed across the street. He tried a couple of the keys before finding the correct one, then let himself in and re-locked the door behind him. It was dim with only the afternoon light coming through the front glass, so he first searched for a switch. There were a series of them at the desk, and he flipped them all. Then he stood frozen, open-mouthed.

On each of the three walls hung his photos, blown up and mounted like art. Portraits, fashion shots, landscapes, shapes and shadows studies, even a few of his better scoop photos. On the reception desk stood a high-end laptop and a pile of brochures. He opened one to find a list of photo packages with prices – _Wow! Those are expensive!_ \- and an hourly rate for outside commissions. There was also a little stand full of business cards.

“Viewfinder Photography Studio. Takaba Akihito, Proprietor,” he read aloud. _Holy shit?!_

He opened the door behind the desk and found a hallway leading to three rooms. Two were set up as small studios with backdrops and a make-up table, a small bathroom between that opened on either side. The third room was for storage, filled with shelves of props and racks of costumes, lights, filters, umbrellas and soft-boxes and various bulbs and lenses – everything necessary for this type of business. The storage room had a door leading to the parking spot.

At the end of the hall was a fourth door, with only a keypad beside it. A post-it note was stuck on the wall, giving Takaba the code. Punching it in, Takaba found a steep stairway leading up. The second floor was a loft-style apartment, tasteful and comfortable. High-end appliances, a giant bed and equally huge TV, colorful and bright and...Takaba sat down on the floor and cried. It was too much. _I can't accept this, can I?_

Soft footsteps on the stairs. “I got tired of waiting. Why are you crying?”

He looked over to see Asami leaning on the railing that separated the stairs from the room. “I...I can't...!”

“I'm not giving it to you. I'm investing in you. I expect you to pay me back, plus a share in the profits after that, and I'm charging you rent. I had everything researched, from the pricing to the equipment. There's a website and some advertising already in place. I've hired a receptionist who will take care of the books as well – since you have no head for business. I leave it to you to find assistants – I think you'll need two or three once jobs start coming in.”

Asami walked over and sat on the floor in front of him. “You can still run around investigating, Akihito, handle only the photoshoots that interest you. You can do this, or I wouldn't have set it up. I don't make bad investments, you know! Besides, I've disrupted your career quite a lot, haven't I?”

Takaba sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve like a child. Then he crawled into Asami's lap. “You don't want me living with you? Is this your way of cutting me loose?”

“Idiot! I'll never let you go again. I told you, you are mine. I'll be spending many nights here, and you'll come to the penthouse when I can't manage to get away secretly. But you hate being there alone, don't you? You don't feel safe there anymore. And you're restless, just waiting for me to come home. You can invite your friends here also – just warn me first so I don't run into them.”

“You knew.” _He always knows, better than I know myself._

“Yes. You've spent all day, every day, out wandering. So now, no need to wander. This will be your home and your business. And you'll share it with me, won't you?”

Takaba was silent for several minutes. He took a deep breath, mind made up. “I'm going to become the biggest damn photographer in the industry! Or I'll go bankrupt and you can kick my broke ass out onto the street.” _A chance, a real chance to become someone who can walk proudly by his side, rather than some kind of mistress or pet. My own business._

'Your ass is too cute for the street, and only I am allowed to break it. Now, get up off it and let's look at all your new things. Happy belated Birthday, Akihito*. I'm sorry I couldn't get it ready in time, but the right location took a while to find.”

“It's perfect. And...thank you. For not making me feel like some kind of charity case, leaving me some pride. Is there alcohol here somewhere? Let's get wasted!”

*Takaba's birthday is Children's Day, May 5th, and since I set this after the sumo tournament, it's the beginning of June.


	4. Kampai!

**Kampai!***

_Clink!_ Two coffee mugs banged together as they toasted Takaba's new home and business. They were drinking expensive champagne like barbarians, the new apartment lacking proper flutes. And, like the champagne, Takaba was bubbling and sparkling and fizzing as he darted around, opening cupboards, marveling over this, and complaining about that.

 _Leave it to my brat to be impressed by the espresso machine and then angry about the wrong gaming console,_ Asami thought. _At least he accepted the situation. It's as safe and stable as I could make it for him. And protected._ Asami had of course arranged for the installation of an alarm system and surveillance cameras on all the entrances. And an escape route – he glanced at the ladder rungs attached to the far wall that led up to a hatch in the ceiling. Takaba hadn't noticed those yet.

Wandering over to the front windows, Asami eyes searched the roof of the building opposite them until he spotted a silhouette – one of his men standing guard. The glass had been mirror-coated, so they could view the street but outsiders saw nothing but reflections.

Hopefully, this set-up would make people believe he'd grown tired of and discarded his “pet” with a parting gift. He'd just have to be extra careful when he came here. Takaba might have more lives than a cat, but he'd already used many of them up and Asami couldn't bear to think that one day he might be too late to rescue his lover. _I don't want to live without him ever again..._

“Asami! Have you seen the bathroom! There's a TV in here too! And a huge spa tub with colored lights! It's like a dance club in here!”

“If I'm going to spend time here, I expect to be comfortable. The light show you can save for yourself. You want to test it?”

But Takaba had already darted over to the closet and thrown open the doors. “All these suits...are for me?” He pawed through them, seeing that they were in trendy cuts and colors, unlike anything Asami might wear. And on the shelves - stacks of vintage jeans and T-shirts. Then he noticed the small safe tucked into the corner.

“Same code as the door, only backward,” Asami told him. Takaba pulled the little note out of his pocket and entered the numbers. Inside was space enough for his most precious cameras, a few files - “Our business contract. You'll have to sign it later.” And...a gun with a box of ammunition. “Just in case, Akihito. I know you learned to use one at the temple, so I...arranged this for you, along with a license for home defense only, and the gun is registered. I do not expect you to ever use it, and you should not take it outside this apartment unless it's to practice at a shooting range.”

Takaba picked up the gun and examined it with steady hands. Sighted along the barrel, extracted and inserted the magazine – loaded. There was something disquieting in watching him familiarize himself with the gun so competently, but Asami knew it was a necessary change if Takaba was going to remain in his life. “I understand, Asami. I'll do whatever I have to – for you and for me.” He closed the safe and the closet doors. “More champagne!” 

* * *

Finally having poked into (almost) every nook and cranny, and finished off the champagne, Takaba flopped onto his bed, face down. “It's perfect, Asami,” he mumbled into the comforter. “Truly amazing. And it already feels like home.”

Asami walked over from the couch, pausing to dim the lights. He slid open a drawer in the bedside table and quietly extracted a pair of handcuffs. _Time for some fun._ Snapping one bracelet around Takaba's wrist, he yanked him up and half-carried him over to the wall with the ladder. “Oi! What are you...!” Looping the connecting chain over a high rung, Asami cuffed the other wrist, stretching Takaba to his full reach.

From his back pocket, Asami extracted his pocket knife and snapped it open. Chuckling softly at Takaba's expression, he cut away the T-shirt, then dragged the blunt side down that smooth chest. “Mmmm. A new home needs a christening,” he purred, following the knife's trail with his mouth. He put aside the knife and stripped Takaba of his pants, leaving him bare naked. Then he stood back to admire the view.

“Perfect.” _He's beautiful, my Akihito is._ Lean and well-proportioned, his satiny honey-toned skin marred only by a small scar on one shoulder, nearly hairless. The posture left his muscles straining, his biceps flexing. _And my, my – quite turned on. Ha!_

“As-Asami!” he panted, jerking against the cuffs. “Not fair! I want to touch you!”

“I never play fair, you know that Akihito.” Strolling back over to the bed, he fished out a few other things from the drawer. On his leisurely return, he bent down to lick and suck on one pink nipple until it swelled erect. He snapped a small clamp onto it and repeated the process on the other. A light silver chain connected them, and he gave it a tug.

“Aah! That...hurts!”

“But is it a good pain? You like it, don't you? This,” he brushed his finger along the length of Akihito's cock, “tells me you do.” Takaba's hips thrust forward involuntarily, wanting more. Asami knelt down and teased his erection with lips and tongue, then slid a cock ring down to the base. “Ah, that's pretty!” He pressed a kiss to the tip, tasting Takaba's excitement.

Next, he made Takaba turn to face the wall. Cupping those plump ass cheeks, he pulled them apart enough to expose the puckered entrance hidden there. Running his tongue down the crevice, he then toyed with that sensitive area before sliding in one fingertip.

“Fuck!”

“Not yet.” Retracting his finger, he rubbed a little lube onto a butt-plug and pushed that into place, where Takaba's muscles gripped and held it. Flipping a little switch, it began to hum.

“Hngh! Ha!” Takaba pressed his forehead against the wall. Asami turned him again to stare into glazed, begging eyes. He caressed that pretty face, kissed the parted lips. “Mm...Asami! Please!”

But Asami just walked over to the kitchen, poured himself some whiskey and lit a Dunhill. As the smoke wafted up past his face, his eyes bored into Takaba, who writhed and squirmed, prey cornered by a hunter. One corner of his lip curled up. “How do you feel, Akihito?” he asked casually.

“Hot! I ache all over! Unn! I need you, you asshole!”

“You're mine, aren't you? No matter how much freedom you have, you'll always come back to me. I want you to crave me worse than a drug addict craves their next fix. I want to brand my name on your heart, carve it into your soul.”

“It's already there, dammit! Cut me open and see! I'm yours and you know it! Now come fuck me!”

“Soon, my Akihito. Be patient.” He smoked and he sipped, enjoying the moans and cries coming from across the room, strangling the urge to rush over and take what he wanted, needed. Finally, finally, he finished the cigarette and poured the last of the whiskey into his mouth, but did not swallow. Stalking over to Takaba, he pressed their lips together and shared the burning liquid, then lapped at the drops that leaked down Takaba's chin and chest.

Takaba lifted one foot and snaked his leg around Asami's waist, pulling him close. Asami let him, grinding his jeans-covered crotch against Takaba's bare flesh.

“Oh God! Asami! I can't take any more!”

“Say my name, Akihito. Say my name, and I'll give you what you want.”

Takaba stared at him, uncomprehending. Then he understood. “Ry...Ryuichi?” His name from Takaba's mouth sent a thrill down his spine. Very few people had earned the privilege – he wanted Takaba to know just how important he was. “Ryuichi!”

“Yes, Akihito.” Kissing deeply, Asami removed the nipple clamps, soothing the aching tips with his fingers. Next, he unlocked the handcuffs, and Takaba immediately dug one hand into his hair, pulling his head back and attacking his throat with teeth and tongue. Cupping Takaba's ass, he lifted him, both legs now wrapped around his waist, and moved over to the bed.

Gently, he laid them down on the mattress. He let Takaba pull his T-shirt off, then he removed the jeans and briefs himself. Pushing Takaba onto his side, he took hold of the handle of the butt-plug and eased it out. “Erk! I hate that thing!”

“Why? It didn't feel good?”

“It's not you. I only want you! Fill me up!”

“So demanding!” Asami arranged Takaba onto all fours, ass in the air. “If you insist!” He thrust himself in fully with one smooth movement.

“Aaaahh! Yes! Ssss..so good! Asa-Ryuichi! More, more!”

As Asami pounded into him relentlessly from behind, he reached around to stroke Takaba's cock, now dripping and rock-hard. He was growling with hunger for more. _Mine, mine, mine,_ he mentally chanted with each push.

“Nnngh! Can't...can't...! Ring – take it off!” Takaba sobbed.

“Oops. I forgot.” He slipped the cock ring off. _You could have removed it yourself, cute boy._

“Bastard!”

“Yes, I am! Now, Akihito! Come with me!” He thrust wildly, losing his last shreds of control.

Takaba whined as his entire body clenched like a fist, then let out a series of yelps and cries as his body thrashed and quivered in release. Asami had to grip his hips tightly or risk being bucked off as he rode his own climax. He panted and huffed, trying to recover, but suddenly he noticed that Takaba was still... He flipped him over. No ejaculate, still erect. _A dry orgasm!_ “Akihito?!”

“Nnnm...more! I need...! I don't know....”

Asami began stroking his cock, then added his mouth. Not long after, Takaba came again, this time filling Asami's throat with hot semen. And he passed out.

Flopping onto his back beside his unconscious lover, Asami stared at the ceiling. _That was fucking intense!_ Sex with Takaba was always amazing, but this had gone beyond. It had been quite a while since they'd last done this sort of sex play, but Asami didn't think that was the reason. First, hearing his given name, his own loss of control, then the dry orgasm. They had reached some new level of trust, a deeper connection between them.

“I'm yours, just as much as you are mine. Aren't I, you little brat?” Turning on his side, he propped his head on a fist and studied those delicate features. The flush was fading, tear-dampened long lashes rested peacefully on softly curved cheeks. He ran his thumb across the swollen pink lips, leaned over to tenderly kiss them. Then, very, very quietly, “I love you, Akihito.”

Unaware, lost in sweet dreams of passion and warmth, Takaba slept through Asami taking a shower, cleaning him up, and cuddling his kitten to his chest until he fell asleep as well.

_*Kampai!_ \- “Empty your glass!” A drinking toast, sometimes translated as “Bottom's Up!” which I think is a funny pun. I'm simple like that.


	5. Curiosity Satisfied, For Now

**Curiosity Satisfied, For Now**

“Welcome to Viewfinder!” a cheery voice greeted the two men entering.

They paid no attention, being too busy arguing.

“This is ridiculous, Misaki! There is no need for any new pictures of me – what's wrong with the old one?”

The younger, dark-haired one huffed with annoyance - _just like I do,_ Takaba thought with amusement. “That one is what, fifteen years old? Isaka is right, you should update it. And you have a new book coming out soon, so it's time.”

“I'm very cute in that photo! All the fan mail tells me so.”

“Well, now you'll get fresh letters gushing about how gorgeous the Great Lord Usami Akihiko-sensei is, a man in the prime of life, best-selling and award-winning author, etc., etc.”

“Oh ho! Don't forget screenwriter – I fully expect the movie to be a huge success. Did Aikawa coach you? Or are you saying you think I'm gorgeous?”

“...! Shut up, you perverted old man!” Takahashi floundered, falling back onto the same old insults and threats. “You take these pictures or I'll...I'll...!”

“Hmm? Yes?” Usami asked, supremely unafraid. Takaba waited, also curious to hear what this man might be threatened with.

“I'll put green peppers in everything I cook for the next month! I'll throw out all your cigarettes! I won't...mph...for a month either!”

“Cruel Misaki! Though you'd never last a- !” Takahashi slapped a hand over Usami's mouth, finally recalling that they were not in private.

Takaba tried to hide his grin and look professional as the two men turned their attention to him. Usami's eyes flashed a brief look of appreciation when they took in Takaba's face, but he hid it quickly as Misaki struggled to regain his composure. _Amethyst!_ Those eyes were captivating up close, as was the man. _He reminds me of Asami,_ Takaba acknowledged. Same arrogance, self-assurance...but overlaid with a warmth and humor that Asami never displayed in public. _No need or wish to intimidate, I guess._

Takahashi stepped forward and bowed. “Hello, I'm Takahashi Misaki from Marukawa Shoten and this is Usami Akihiko the author. I'm his...handler. He has an appointment.”

Takahashi was adorable when he wasn't frowning and yelling. Big green eyes in a heart-shaped face that seemed incapable of hiding it's owner's emotions. _I'd like to do a series of photos of that face in all it's moods,_ Takaba realized.

Usami seemed to catch that thought. “Misaki, I'll sit for the damn pictures. But only if you take some also.”

Takahashi gaped at him. “But, Usagi...I'm not...! There's no need-”

“Do you have time for that? To shoot both of us? Cost doesn't matter.” Usami completely ignored Takahashi's protests.

“Certainly! I have the whole afternoon free. Why don't you both come into the back room.” Takaba led the way into one of the studios, Takahashi being pushed forward by the shoulders. 

* * *

A little while later, Takaba was growing frustrated. No matter how he posed Usami, the man looked stiff. Takahashi had faded into a corner, not wanting to get in the way. _Still gorgeous, but emotionless and withdrawn. That's probably how he looks when he's writing, like there's nothing in this world that interests him._ Noticing the silence as Takaba stopped clicking the camera, he looked over with a hint of impatience.

“Forgive me, Usami-sensei, but I'm not liking this setting for you. Would you be willing to humor me? Meiji Shrine is just a few blocks away, and I think the scenery there might be more fitting.”

Usami looked ready to protest, but Takahashi piped up. “That sounds good. I'd like to see the shrine.” Takaba snapped one more picture - Usami's face had changed when Takahashi spoke. _Just in case, that one will work if I can't get better outside._

“Fine. At least outside I can smoke. Let's go.” He hopped up and headed for the door.

“Takahashi, turn right when you get outside. I have to grab a few things, so I'll catch up.” Takahashi waved as he scrambled after Usami. Quickly, Takaba gathered together his supplies and tossed them into a backpack, then locked the studio door behind him.

He only had to run a little to close the distance between them, but he hung back and observed as they walked. Close enough to occasionally bump shoulders, the pair seemed in sync now. Takahashi had to nearly trot to keep up with Usami's long-legged strides. Whatever he was chattering about, Usami found it amusing, smiling and even laughing out loud once. The laugh was deep and sensual and intimate, which Takahashi responded to with a radiant grin.

 _In their own little world. Like Asami and I, when we're home alone together._ Takaba sighed. He might never have that with Asami out in public, but at least he did have it. _And that's enough for me,_ he told himself. _We aren't them, our lives are different. But we can still make it work, because we want to._

Resolved, he caught up to them and the three men proceeded to the shrine, where Takaba managed - with Takahashi's help - to catch the perfect photo of Usami looking relaxed and animated. Then he took a whole series of Takahashi's elfin, constantly fluctuating features. And sneakily, a few candid, romantic shots of the two of them.

As they walked back toward the studio, Takaba asked, “Should I send your photos to you, Usami-sensei, or to someone at Marukawa? Not the ones of Takahashi – I'll give those directly to you, of course.”

“Oh, just pick whichever picture of me you like and send it to my editor, Aikawa Eri, at Marukawa. Delete the rest.”

Misaki smacked him on the arm. “I'll text you her information,” Takahashi told Takaba, “and I think you should choose the official photo. But we'd like copies of them all, not just mine.”

“Understood. Thank you both for your time. I will send you the photos in two days.”

He entered his studio and watched through the window as they crossed the street and got into a flashy red sports car. So, that was mother-hen Takahashi, and his man-child Usagi, who could switch roles on a dime where Misaki became unsure and needy with Usami-sensei humoring and encouraging him. _Such a bizarre couple, both bundles of contradictions. But they complement each other perfectly._

Takaba locked the studio and dashed upstairs to his apartment, eager to sort through the photos. 

* * *

The next evening, Asami made his way up the stairs, calling out, “I'm home.”

“Welcome home,” came Takaba's distracted reply. He was hunched over his desk in the corner, piles of printed photos all shoved to the side as he fiddled with something. Looking over his shoulder, Asami saw two medium-sized picture frames. The first featured a silver-haired, purple-eyed man full length, leaning against a tree with arms crossed and laughing. The second was a younger man with huge green eyes flashing as he pouted, cheeks rosy. Takaba was working on the back of a third, much larger frame.

Asami picked up one of the piles of small prints and shuffled through it. “So, you met them at last. Did you get your answers?”

“Meeting with the publicity department of Marukawa paid off. Thanks to you, I made a good impression and have several appointments lined up. Next week I get to shoot Ijuuin Kyo, mangaka of _The*Kan_! I'm going to get his autograph, no matter how silly it makes me look!”

“You are silly,” Asami said, ruffling his hair.

“Done!” Takaba announced and propped the large frame up against the wall. They both took a few steps back to study it.

Usami had his arms around Takahashi, pressing the shorter man to his side and gazing down with a face full of love and tenderness. Takahashi's face was upturned and his hand rested on Usami's heart, big eyes begging for a kiss.

Asami hugged Takaba from behind, and he leaned back against that broad chest. “You captured them perfectly. They didn't know about this one, did they?”

“You said they made their own little world – this is what it looks like when they're in it,” Takaba answered quietly. “Takahashi talked a lot once he loosened up. They've been together 6 years now.”

Takaba laughed a little. “I didn't learn anything, really. They just fit together, despite being very different people. You can feel it in their presence, almost see the energy that flows between them.”

“And do you still feel jealous of them?”

“I envy them being able to be together more openly. That's all. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm happy, I'm busy, you're here and no one's trying to kill us. It's enough.” _I love you, and you love me, admit it or not._

“Good. Now stop staring at men who aren't me. Let's try the bathtub.”

“I'm going to turn the disco lights on!”

Asami's rich laugh rang out as Takaba tugged him into the bathroom. 

* * *

The next day, Usagi and Misaki marveled at the delivery of three framed pictures they hadn't asked for. Usagi's picture went in the kitchen, Misaki's in the office. And the largest got pride of place in the living room.

When the book came out a month later, fan mail did indeed gush over the gorgeous photo of Usami Akihiko gazing sexily at them (really Misaki, standing just behind the camera), surrounded by a field of purple irises that echoed the amethyst of his eyes.

**Ooof! This one was tough – I kept giving Asami a lot of words, then cutting most of them out. I expect trouble will find the Finder couple eventually, but it was nice to write them having quiet time together. I think it's time for a Bad Luck concert – thanks for visiting Tokyo Yaoiverse!**


End file.
